


all these hearts in a line

by katiesaygo



Series: stoned stories and tipsy tales [6]
Category: The Good Place (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - The Bachelor Fusion, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-02
Updated: 2021-02-02
Packaged: 2021-03-13 03:21:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29146587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katiesaygo/pseuds/katiesaygo
Summary: A limo pulls up to an unbelievably lavish mansion—where evening has just descended, the darkening purple of the sky broken up by warm lights strung up to perfectly frame one woman.Vicky, our bachelorette, stands basking in the camera's attention—her deep blue ballgown and carefully serene smile marking her clearly as the star of the night.
Relationships: Tahani Al-Jamil/Eleanor Shellstrop
Series: stoned stories and tipsy tales [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/956328
Comments: 5
Kudos: 13
Collections: femslash february music fest





	all these hearts in a line

**Author's Note:**

> for day 1 of the femslash february music fest's prompt:  
> wanna be missed - hayley kiyoko  
> [come join!](https://elasticella.dreamwidth.org/38276.html)

A limo pulls up to an unbelievably lavish mansion—where evening has just descended, the darkening purple of the sky broken up by warm lights strung up to perfectly frame one woman.

Vicky, our bachelorette, stands basking in the camera's attention—her deep blue ballgown and carefully serene smile marking her clearly as the star of the night.

Off to the side, the show's host, Michael watches the people one by one introduce themselves before making their way in to the mansion and awaiting cocktail party.

Eleanor, one of this season's contestants, waits to parade herself in front of Vicky from the luxury of a parked limo.

“I thought I told you to turn that shit uppp, Glearn,” the champagne in her gripped glass sloshes dangerously as she leans over to bang on the partition window again.

“It's Glenn, actually,” her meek driver answers, “and this is as loud as it can be without interrupting filming.”

She scoffs, “What fucking ever, man, it's _Kesha_!”

With her face pressed against glass, she can just barely make out the scene outside.

Some hottie professor type has been on the stairs with Vicky for at least ten minutes—seven of which she has spent trying politely to move him along.

“This guy needs some serious help, Glearn—“ Eleanor lurches out of the limo.

“Wait, you can't—“

“And turn this shit up!”

She leaves the door open and ignores the camera techs, producers, and anyone else in her way as she walks into frame.

Vicky is obviously startled by her departure from show structure, but the man seems shocked almost into cardiac arrest—if the audible panicked gasping is any indication, anyway.

“Dude, you gave a super good speech,” she takes one of the hands off the long skirt of her dress now that she's successfully up the stairs and squeezes his shoulder.

“But it's like Kesha once said,” she gazes into his eyes with a wisdom that only comes after three glasses of champagne, “'Let's make the most of the night, like we're gonna die young'.”

And from the speakers of the limo still siting parked at the end of the driveway, Kesha says exactly that.

The set is silent.

“Ok, so—see ya later!” 

When he's shuffled off, Eleanor turns back to Vicky.

“What's up, gorgeous,” she sticks her hand out, “My name's Eleanor.”

The woman in front of her has done a remarkable job of recovering from Eleanor's sudden appearance.

Her gaze stops flickering pointedly over to Michael and morphs quickly into a smile that's sure to capture the hearts of viewers.

“Vicky, but I'm sure you knew that.”

.

Later, Eleanor is hitting up the refreshment table, getting talked at by the least boring person she'd clocked when she walked through to the mansion to the freaking huge backyard space housing the cocktail party. 

His name is Jason and he's shivering, wearing only a dance uniform in the quickly lowering chill following the night, and enthusiastically telling her all about his choreographed entrance.

Eleanor has seen every episode of every season of every show in the bachelor nation universe—it was all the right flavors of messy.

Jason, she can tell, is her least threatening competition.

But also kind of the only one here Eleanor respects.

She's encouraging him pretty heavily through a mouth full of hors d'oeuvres to give her a live demonstration of his routine.

Unfortunately she never gets the chance to see whether he agrees, because as soon as Vicky steps out and rejoins the group, a large blast of air sounds from the sky above them.

The crowd's gaze turns upward—and there, framed against the dark night is a brightly colored hot air balloon descending to the ground.

“What the fuck?” Eleanor says what, really, everyone must be thinking.

“You can't swear,” a Producer calls from the depths of shadow behind the huge lights illuminating the party.

“Seriously?” She asks, now to both the Producer and the general situation unfolding in front of her.

“Hello, no need to make a fuss!” A woman shouts, as she disembarks the balloon, waving like she's the queen in The Princess Diaries, “It's just me, Tahani Al-Jamil.”

Tahani is the most beautiful person in all of bachelor nation history, Eleanor knows this for a fact—having what she swears is a near photographic memory in the subject.

The group make their way back over to the patio and Eleanor can't seem to pull her gaze away, even with Jason now popping and locking at her side.

Tahani gets the first impression rose.  
.

And a rose at elimination ceremony after elimination ceremony as the weeks pass.

And at several group dates—most recently one where they, along with Chidi, Jason, and Vicky go to a barcade, of all places. 

Gross.

Even grosser, the more time she spends with Tahani, the more Eleanor is beginning to rethink her previous opinion on the reality of showmances.

At night, when she should be enjoying all the amenities this sweet little reality tv stunt has to offer, she stares up the ceiling and wonders if Tahani's thinking of her too. 

.

They're sitting around a table—Vicky and two of the quarter-finalists, Eleanor and Tahani—out on a private yacht at sea, the sun setting behind them and one of these contestant's final rose sitting between them.

“This is so, so hard,” Vicky explains, voice tight as the wind flutters her hair over the sequined shoulder of her cute sea-faring ballgown. “There are so many things I love about each of you.”

Eleanor stands, doesn't want to hear another second of Vicky's rehearsed flip-flopping over to send home.

“Look,” She snatches the rose from the vase in the table's center. “I'm not one for making speeches sober, but I'm also not here _for the right reasons_.”

She gives poignant look to each of the other women at the table.  
But before Eleanor can turn to look at Tahani to continue her epic prime-time love confession, Vicky pushes back from her seat as well. 

“Excellent work, Michael,” She yells over to the show's host, who sits on the other side of the camera looking equally as shocked. “How'd you let it slip this time?”

“I didn't!” He shouts back, “It must've been you!”

“We didn't even tell them they were _dead_ this time!”

Eleanor holds up a hand to stop their bickering.

“I was just,” Eleanor's other hand is still outstretched towards Tahani with the rose, “trying to tell Tahani that I'm in love with her.”

“You are?” Tahani stands up, scoops up Eleanor's hands in hers, “Darling, what a relief. That is such a weight off my chest.”

And really, Eleanor would in any other situation be kissing Tahani by now, but her mind was a little caught up on Vicky and Michael's meltdown.

“Wait—the barcade, the cheesy reality program, the fact that Jason and I even made it this far—are we in hell?”


End file.
